Bittersweet Symphony, That's Life.
by SugrPlumFaerie
Summary: This is Harry/Hermione because it's the only match i can deal with...Really, i would rather I became a witch and Harry Married me...Wait, did I just write that? Oh well, like you weren't thinking the same thing...Anyways, this is post graduation. Harry Ha
1. Kissed By a Rose

Looking up from the brad I was baking, I smiled softly at the eyes in the window. It was the first time I had smiled in weeks, at least since Draco left me for another woman. But now I was gazing into the beautiful green eyes of her childhood, the ones that should have belonged to a cat, sleek and graceful. She hadn't talked to Harry since the fall of the Dark Lord. Their graduation. It hurt to remember, so painful it was. Ron dying to save me, Cho leaving Harry with one last loving kiss before Voldemort took her, too. Leaving us only with each other. I frowned, only vaguely recollecting the next few hours. Harry had sat with me for hours, and questioning life. I had just begun to understand his thoughts when he left me. After all, if God took your Mother, Father, best friend, and first love from you by the time you were 18, would you see the point in life? Harry showed me how to believe with all my heart that it would all be ok in the end. And now he was here, again.  
"Hey, Herms, you going to open the door, or should I stand here all night?" His farmiliar silky voice drifted through the air towards me, and I suddenly couldn't wait another moment. I needed to see his face, and feel his arms around me.  
Throwing open the door, a cold burst of air hit me and I gasped. He was drop-dread gorgous. Recovering quickly, I threw my floured arms around him, leaving white rings on his black shirt.  
"Oh Harry, I missed you!" I could barely find the words to express it to him. I needed him to complete me, especially with Ron gone. Draco had just been someone to pass the time with. A lust-filled relationship destined to end before any love was kindled. But Harry was the other part of my soul, my missing piece. "Why did you come back, after all this time?"  
Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Should I have stayed away? I read in The Daily Prophet that my childhood friend won an award, A Newberry, if I'm not mistaken. I thought I should come and congradulate you, but if you think I should leave..."  
He turned and began inching towards the door, knowing he wouldn't make it far.  
"Harry, you jerk, come here!" Hermione tugged softly on his sleeve and gazed into his soulful eyes once he had turned back to her. " I missed you too much to have you leave me again." She smiled up at him, and brushed his lips lightly with hers. He tasted of lemon drops and smelled of the sea. 


	2. Light My Fire

My stomach lurched when she did that. Her lips were more delicate than a wild rose, and I could barely control myself. She was so beautiful.  
  
"Hermione." I touched her lips, begging her with my eyes not to do what seemed so natural. "We have to talk." I was serious, and she knew it. Sitting down on the couch with her I opened my mouth to speak. Nothing came out, and I sighed. I wondered what she was thinking, and how she was going to take what I had to tell her. I looked away, breathing deeply and swallowing hard. But nothing could remove the ever-present and ever-growing feeling that I didn't have much longer with her, with anyone. Not that anyone else was left.  
  
"Harry, if you have something to tell me, do it. We've been through too much together to keep secrets from each other." Her gentle fingers turned my face to her. Nothing could have been more difficult than staring into her warm chocolate brown eyes and seeing her face dotted with little flecs of flour she had been baking with.  
  
"You've got a spot," I remaarked casually, brushing the tip of her nose. She just stared harder, her ilttle fingers twitching the way they did when she was getting annoyed.  
  
"Herms, I went to the doctor a week ago and got an MRI. They couldn't quite figure out what had gone wrong with my broom arm after the quidditch match last month, and they thought a full body scan might help them diagnose the problem. When the results came back they found something," I said, almost choking. "In my brain. Herms, I have a brain tumor." Her eyes were glazed over. I didn't even know if she heard me.  
  
"That's not funny, Harry. Don't tell me that. Don't lie to me." My eyes told her that it wasn't a joke, that I wasn't lying. "But you're the boy who lived! You can't die. Nothing can kill you." Her voice caught, and her eyes came into focus. Slowly she got up, went into the kitchedn, and began rummaging through the cabinats mumbling softly to herself. She finally pulled out a bottle of Vodka and a glass. She knew I had always hated it, and that I didn't drink at all.  
  
"Pour me one, too." After all, I thought, desperate times call for desperate measures. I could see the tears running down her face as she downed the first shot. And then the second, and then the third. She hadn't heard me at all.  
  
"Hermione, stop it. Alchohol won't help with this problem."  
  
"Alchohol always helps. Draco says so. It stops the pain. He told me so." She poke in a broken robotic voice. I was worried, she was too small to drink so much. She lifted another shot to her mouth.  
  
"Hermione," I began, but she cut me off.  
  
"Don't come another step!" she screamed, spitting vodka everywhere adn shaking with each sob of heart wrenching magnitude. She threw her glass against the wall. I had left my wand in my jacket by the door. Slowly moving towards it I watched as she attempted to pick up the peices of broken glass, her blood mixing itself with the clear liquid spilled areound. I gritted my teeth, trying to remember a spell to freeze time. Unable to, I pointed my wand at the spilled Vodka, whispering "Scorchio" under my breath. 


	3. Fantastical

Agh! I'm soo tortured! I don't think I can finish this fan fic guys, I can't do this to Harry. I mean, I plan on hitting him HARD. I'm giving him a tumor in his Pineal Gland, a very small gland at the center of the brain. It was said by ancient people to be the third eye. Descartes, a famous french philosopher, who once stated "I think, therefore I am," also believed this gland to be an integral part of the body. He thought it was used as the connection between mind and body, without which you would cease to exist. See my problem? Well, I warned you. Don't read the next chapters if you can't handle it. I don't think I can.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, or Hermione. Also, I don't own the aforementioned Cho, Ron, Dumbledore (I did mention him, didn't I? Well, if I didn't, Moldy Volde killed him, too.), Lily, or James. Leave me alone, I don't have enough imagination to make up charectors! And if i did, no one would read my fics!!  
  
And now, on with the show!  
  
The vodka before me burst into flames causing me to jump back. I felt Harry's strong arms around me, pulling me from the fire.  
  
"Just let it burn," He said softly, nuzzling my neck. My heart soared. I wished time could stand still. I watched the flames licking the wall. Beautiful colours. Harry loved red. Thinking this I wished I was wearing red. Then he would love me. I took his hand from its clutching position around me and turned it palm up. We had sat down by then, with me sitting indian style and his legs draped over my theighs. I traced his life line with my finger. I had never believed in divination, and this was why; Harry's life line went on and on forever. Once he noticed what I was looking at he closed his hand into a fist. I bit my bottom lip. My tears had subsided, finally. I had begun to think more clearly, and the conclusion was that the man behind me was Harry. He was with me. Now. Tommorrow was the time to worry about tommorrow. I stood up and pulled him up with me.  
  
"I love you, Herms," He whispered to me. I knew he did, he didn't have to tell me. I had always known. But it seemed he had recently realized. At such a thought, my eyes danced and my lips tugged up into a smile.  
  
  
"I love you, too, Harry." I reached out and touched his scar, letting my finger glide to his cheek, and then his lips, where it rested until the time I replaced it with my own lips. I poured my soul into that kiss, into Harry. I wanted to flush out all the evil lurking inside of him, ready to attack his good side. My hands worked at his shirt buttons slowly. I rubbed his bare chest, not wanting to break the kiss, not knowing if he wanted to go further. Then i felt his hands working at the ties on the back of my shirt. They came undone and I felt my shirt fall to the floor with a flutter, leaving me in my white lace bra. Harry's hands rested on my hips and I shivered. He broke away and looked into my eyes, biting his lip out of nervous habit. I took him by the hand and led him to my bedroom. Rather, the one Draco and I had shared. But I felt safe saying it was mine, since I hadn't seen him in weeks. Candles always burned in there, and long red roses sat in vases scattered around the room. My, er, our bed was a large, old, wooden canopy with large peices of black lace hanging down. The sheets were red silk, as Draco wouldn't have it any other way. He had made a crazy lover. Now I would show Harry what I had learned. My body tensed as I flipped the light switch off.  



	4. Live for Today

When I woke up Hermione's legs were still entwined in mine. I could feel her breath on my neck. Such a wonderful feeling. I didn't want to move, for fear she would wake up and the moment would be over. So I merely relaxed even more into her grip and thought over all I knew of love and death, and the way the world worked. I knew that, if I really had a brain tumor, it was due to the scar. It made sense. My mother may have dyed for me, but no one said how long she could protect me. I had shut her out of my mind and life and fully accepted God after killing Voldemort. (A/N: I don't mean the judeo-christian god here...we're talking greater being.) I know she's an angel. And that, when I did die, I would see her again. I would see Ron, and Cho. I would talk to Dumbledore about "the next great adventure." I stroked Hermione's hand. My only regret was that she wouldn't be in heaven with me. I loved her. She held all that was left of my soul, the only thing connecting me to this world. She stole the peice long ago, and was never going to give it up. Eventually, I knew, she would drop it, or someone would pry herclenched fingers open.  
  
"Harry?" Her voice was soft, sounding like a faerie I had met once. I rolled onto my side. Her eyes were barely opened. "I love you."  
  
I kissed her forehead. "I'm gonna go make myself some tea. Would you like some?" She nodded, barely, before closing her eys again. I gently kissed her lips, causing her to smile gently and roll over.  
  
"Tired..." She mumbled, as if this was an excuse. I suppose it was, and I rather good one. Now I had two choices. I could wear one of Malfoy's silk robes, or i could loop a nice, clean, white cotton towel around my waist. Decisions, decisions. Obviously, I went for the towel.  
  
By the time I had made tea and french toast Hermione had joined me in her kitchen.  
  
"I over-reacted last night, I'm sorry Harry. The solution is quite evident. I'll find a spell to cast. It'll work Harry, why do you think everyone in the wizard world is rid of terminal illness?"  
  
The question was rhetorical. Answering would only show my ignorance. But I didn't WANT a spell. I wanted to be normal, a normal human. I wasn't a god, I was simply a mortal man, trying to live my life the best way I could before I died.  
  
"No, Hermione. Would you like cream with your tea?" I didn't feel like dwelling. I hadn't done anything in awhile, I could use a good adventure.  
  
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Ok guys, whaddya think? It's ok. I suppose. I can't deal with killing Harry. I love him so much, he's such a great charector. I also suppose I should get used to it. If I want to write, bad things will happen. It's inevitable. So why do I feel so awful?? On Monday, the 25th, I leave for debate camp in Iowa City. Don't laugh, I'm quite serious. My birthday is July 4th, and I'll be 15, yea! But, I don't get back from debate camp until July 14th...eeps! (That sound/word REALLY annoys me, but my friend uses it, and so it has stuck itself into my mind. And, as an aspiring author, I feel a need to write exactly the way I think! Especially since I don't know any of you! Hehe!) I think I'll have it done when I get back. Hopefully a new one, too! Maybe not a Harry Potter one...We'll see! Signing off!  
  
P.S. Umm, I just re-read this. The dialogue is AWFUL. But, I don't think I can do much better. It's much easier to do a drunk Hermione than a know-it-all one. ::smacks her forehead:: I forgot the hangover!!!! Agh! Well, imagine for yourself what this SHOULD have been. Just make sure to get to the same conclusion!  
  
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